Clearing out the junk to get to the bottom of the trunk

I’m trying not to blog every day, just yet, but sometimes I can’t help myself.

This post isn’t about packing or moving or anything like that. It is about writing. These past few months writing has become my mental yoga. It gives me a sense of balance and authority over my own life. When you get down to it, sometimes I just need to write. Usually, I don’t really have anything important to say, but I just need to purge a little. I ramble and roam, describe what I see or feel, what I dreamed about or where my body aches, and I often feel like I’m wasting my time, but suddenly there’s a thought, or a collection of words, or an image, and I’m off to the races.

It’s kind of like all those senseless dreams we have, where we’re lost in an old house, or the dogs are flying out the window, or we’re driving the car backwards without brakes. These dreams are necessary and clear the way for the real, meaningful, life changing ones. Dreaming and mindless writing work that way.

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